Conciousness
by SilouhetteDreams
Summary: Owl City had it right when they said "It's hard to say that I'd rather stay awake when I'm asleep." Or at least, as far as Toris is concerned. MAJOR violence  most I've EVER written. ;A; , Torture, Character Deaths, Mild Language.


_Consciousness._

Sometimes, you might want to face it, be happy to wake to it.

Perhaps, to see the one you love, or maybe to even awake from a nightmare where that one person is ultimately taken away from you.

That was the first step.

Now, I step into consciousness and certainly wake to a nightmare of sorts.

I immediately inhaled the dust particles around me. I coughed weakly. Convulsing caused my every muscle to scream.

I wish I could too.

I stifled my coughs the best I could. If I was quiet, he wouldn't come. As far as I could tell, he only came when he knew I was indeed awake.

I closed my eyes and tried to stop my own breathing. I never wanted to wake again.

My movement caused the chains shackling me to the wall to rattle.

I heard the familiar footsteps echo.

Closer, closer...

I wasn't still enough. Why was I never still enough?

I prayed it was Raivis, Eduard.

Anyone but who it had to be.

Metal to concrete, the sound unmistakable to me, to anyone in this position.

The door opened, light, a false vision of hope stabbed at my tired eyes and pierced my soul. For a split second, I was almost thankful for the tall figure that stood, shielding me from the piercing energy which I hadn't truly been exposed to for however long. I had lost track of when day changed to night and time continued to pass without me.

Then I saw the outline of the ever-present pipe in his grasp, and remembered what happened next.

"Toris, are you awake?"

The voice was so sickeningly familiar, sickeningly sweet.

The light was gone.

"No hello?" A chuckle, and then his breath could've cut across my skin. I was certainly fragile enough.

He was suddenly directly in front of me.

I wanted to tremble, to cry, but I had to be strong.

_I am the nation of Lithuania, dammit._

I stayed strong by not speaking. I never spoke, and if I did, very little.

"Cat have your tongue?" He chuckled again at this choice of words. I hope it didn't give him any new, sick ideas.

My heart sputtered a bit.

I swallowed air, mouth too dry to swallow anything else.

Something soft brushed against my face. It teased the dark bruising I couldn't see but felt like a torch to my skin.

"For you, Toris."

"What is it?" I croaked, forgetting my personal oath. The touch might've hurt but it was otherwise gentle. Maybe that's why I spoke.

"A flower."

A sunflower. I knew him all too well.

"But you can't have it unless you say you love me~"

How could I love anyone who did these horrendous things to me? I always thought to myself. I replied the same, knowing chastisement. Knowing my bones would break and my skin would tear.

"Never."

Without warning, the stem was a knife, ripping the fragile skin of my lips and cutting the insides of my throat.

I gagged repeatedly.

Again, again.

I couldn't vomit if that's what Ivan wanted. Was it some sick experiment to see if I would? Or just the first wicked thought he had? I hadn't eaten in months. If I were born human, I would've been long dead.

But I'm cursed as a nation, one who doesn't need food, water, or even sleep.

Well, at least this monster blessed me with that.

Finally, the object foreign to my throat pulled away, and I coughed and gasped.

Ivan chuckled to himself. "You're supposed to tell me when you wake, Toris." He wandered away and back into the light.

I still hadn't caught my breath.

I pulled forward and hit my head as hard as I could against the concrete behind me. The pain was nothing after I had endured all this. The chains rattling droned out the vile noise of my skull against concrete.

I finally tormented myself enough to replace physical darkness with a much more soothing flavor.

_Conciousness._

Sometimes, you can be stirred to it, by someone you love, or someone you simply want to ignore and go back to your previous state.

Or perhaps the memory of your best friend who had somehow paid you a rare visit in your dreams.

I despised the one who woke me.

He ran his inhumanly sharp fingertips down my bare torso.

Wait, how long had I been naked?

Who knows.

"Toris, are you awake?"

"Yes..." I replied, the words spilling out of me, once again forgetting my oath of strength. This was strange, even for him.

I sensed that he blinked. "You let me know you were awake."

I blinked back.

"Yes, you woke me." My voice came out bold, the best it had in an immeasurable amount of time. Less dust maybe? What time of year could it possibly be?

Ivan backed away from me.

I cleared my throat of the dust that had settled there and deep in my lungs. I figured that might've been my one chance to speak up. At least I had used it.

I could sense my captor's smile in the blackness.

He walked away, to leave me all alone.

It felt strange.

I almost _wanted_ his presence.

I was just as confused as I had been when he'd attacked me and shackled me to the wall.

He made me watch in horror as he slit Felik's throat. I thrashed so hard I broke both of my wrists. I knew it was too late. I knew.

But I just wanted to hold his lifeless body. I wanted to touch him, no matter how cold he was. If I knew it were his last day…I had always told him to be careful.

His final words were "Thank you, Liet." And he lay lifeless, somehow with a smile on his face.

Things no longer made sense.

Ivan Braginski was a mad man, every nation knew that. That was probably the only thing in this god-forsaken realm that did now make sense.

But today, where was his pain, the beatings? And what else.

He didn't ask that one question.

"Do you love me?"

All because I had said one miniscule word.

Why did that mean so much to him? Just a simple yes to an unimportant question. _I'm answering you…I am obviously awake._ An answer as sharp as that would be something Felik's would've replied if he were in the same position.

But Ivan had chosen me.

There was no understanding that cruel predator.

I thought and I missed and I was grateful that dear Felik's wasn't here where I decay.

_Consciousness._

Sometimes, you wake in a cold sweat and scream, cry out in fear of a figment, a simple idea. Perhaps a memory or a vision of something that frightened you to such an extent you had to recall it once more.

I wake up to the nightmare, and fall into nothingness or simple memories. It's as if my reality is so truly awful my subconscious mind couldn't recreate it.

I looked around. I tried to make out the outlines of anything.

I couldn't.

Was today the day I tried what I wanted to try for so long?

I had a feeling.

Whether it good or bad, I couldn't tell, but I silently agreed with myself.

Today.

I took a deep breath, oxygen stinging my lungs and yet making me feel the most alive I'd felt since my freedom.

I screamed.

I screamed so loud I thought my vocal cords would rip, along with the rest of me. Perhaps I would scream my soul right out of my throat.

The scream I'd kept to myself through all I'd been through had built up and finally spilled over.

It was as if to say "I am finally awake."

The steps that followed were slower and more paced than usual.

I glared into the light and at the creature before me.

"Toris, good to see you awake."

I didn't say anything.

He wrapped his fingers around my windpipe. He pressed his fingers into the same bruises he had dug beforehand. I held my breath.

"Toris, do you know what today is?"

I had no idea. I had no concept of dates or times.

With no reply, he went on.

"In many European countries today is Saint. Valentine's. _Day_." With every word his

fingers' grasp tightened.

Valentine's Day.

Last Valentine's Day, I'd risked my life simply to give Natalya a handmade Valentine.

She slowly ripped it into pieces and sprinkled them at my feet, so calm, so cold.

She then said that if I didn't get out of her home that that would be my fragile skin.  
I swallowed.

Feliks met me outside, and teased me, but then had to comment on how brave I was to even step foot near the nation of Belarus. And to present a _Valentine._ I had a strange taste, he guessed.

Ivan pressed a cold blade into my chest. I cringed, it was a bit dull.

"Is there anyone you would give a Valentine to?" His voice was so soft, but the blade was seeming to grow sharper and his grip was tight.

Tighter.

I coughed, and he let go.

Warm blood started to seep down my body, the warmest touch I'd felt in so long.

I kept silent.

The blood made a subtle drop on the dirt floor. Almost like rain. I hadn't thought of rain in so long.

The knife cut deeper. My breath caught.

More of my own blood leaked down my body.

The dripping to the floor became regular, steady.

I began to feel a bit lightheaded.

Suddenly, the knife drew away, and so had Ivan. He reached up and pulled a light cord I never knew of.

The bulb was old, dusty, and weak. It didn't put out much light. I could see Ivan clearly before me, smiling like a child who'd just received a piece of candy or lollipop.

I looked down at my body, not even recognizing myself.

I was bare.

I clearly counted my every rib, every outline. My stomach was beyond receded, looking as if all that lay there were drooping blankets of skin. My legs looked like bones, or, were bones. Even my skin covering my limbs looked as if you could peel it off. In fact, in certain places the white flakes appeared to simply fall off and peel and leave sore patches behind. Multiple scars peeked through bruises and the fresh blood trailing down this decrepit creature.

This creature that was me.

"Look at me, Toris."

I did as I was told. He'd done so much already.

Those amethyst eyes were so icy. I gazed into a strange purple glacier.

"Do you love me?"

I wanted to spit in my face. I wanted him to go through what he put me through.

How could I love someone who had cut into my skin, who had bludgeoned me to bruise my internal organs, who at this very moment choked off my windpipe with his bare hands?

Who had taken the only person I had ever truly loved.

No.

I _despised_ thisnightmare_._

I swallowed. "Yes."

My voice was solid.

Ivan broke out with a grin.

A sick, wild, but truly happy grin.

He released the hand gripping my neck and ran it over my chest, the fresh cuts and scars.

I cringed, somehow keeping completely silent.

My sternum rose weakly with every breath I took, and looked as if the bones protecting my heart could collapse at any moment.

But on top of that paperlike fresh and tree-limb bone, in crimson pools above darker streams read a Russian phrase.

"Я люблю Вас"

_I love you._

"I'll show you just how much I love you, dear Lithuania."

He reached inside his cloak and in a second had a pistol aimed at the letters and symbols across my chest.

I closed my eyes.

I waved to Feliks.

And in that moment, I never had to face the horror of consciousness again.


End file.
